Nothing's Fair In Love And War
by Iliak
Summary: Writers sometimes must neglect certain pleasures in favor of their craft. Certain ducks sometimes get impatient. Mature content, Fakir/Ahiru, several years post-series, assuming Ahiru is turned back into a girl and hooks up with Fakir


A/N: Written as a gift for samsamjellyjam on livejournal.

"Did ya," Ahiru paused to yawn, "finish it?"

Fakir let his eyes wander across the room, dimly lit with the hazy gray light of a rainy morning, to his desk. A stack of paper and an ink-stained quill met his gaze, and he let his eyes fall shut with a soft, contented sigh. "I think so."

"What's _that_ s'posed to mean?" Ahiru frowned sleepily.

Fakir didn't open his eyes. "Exactly what I said."

Propping herself up on her elbow, Ahiru leaned over to glare petulantly down at Fakir, though of course he couldn't see it with his eyes closed. "But you spent so _long_ on it! Don't you know yet?"

"It's probably done." Still not opening his eyes, though he knew from the way the mattress shifted and the feeling of her warm breath blowing across his face what Ahiru was doing, he folded an arm up behind his head, subtly stretching the muscles in his back.

Most likely, the story was done, or at least mostly done. It had certainly _felt_ done when he finally turned in late last night, having written furiously all through the afternoon and evening as a summer storm raged outside. Now the storm had calmed into a gentle, steady patter of rain against the window, and Fakir still felt the same exhausted sense of accomplishment he'd had when he collapsed next to Ahiru while the thunder still crashed. Maybe he would change his mind when he read it over but, for the moment, he was content to let it be. The soft light was gentle against his eyelids, Ahiru was warm and squirming next to him, the sheets were just cool enough against his skin, and he had no intention of going anywhere.

Ahiru jabbed a finger into his cheek. "That's not fair."

Letting out a deep sigh through his nose, Fakir slowly opened his eyes to give her a look of faint, unsmiling, bemusement. "Moron. How does that work? It's my story."

Ahiru pouted, not withdrawing her finger from where it was making a small indentation on his face. "I waited all this time--_all_ last night--I was really, really patient--and you mean you might be busy with it again _tonight_!? That's definitely not fair!"

"Patient?" Fakir had to give a light snort.

"I--I _was_! I waited really quietly and didn't I say anything and--"

"I could hear you."

Ahiru retracted her finger from his cheek, suddenly wanting to look anywhere except at Fakir as her face turned a rather incriminating shade of crimson. "H-hear me what? I ... I didn't make any noise ...."

"I could hear you," Fakir reiterated flatly.

"I ... " Ahiru was inching away from him, fidgeting with the sheets. "I wasn't ... _loud_."

That much, at least, was true. When Fakir had first heard the soft, quack-like squeaks coming from the Ahiru-shaped lump in bed, he hadn't realized what they were. His first thought had been that she was upset by the storm. He'd been about to get up and leave off writing to comfort her when he heard a very familiar, if quieter than usual, needy whine. It was after that that he had noticed the slight creak of the bedsprings.

"It was distracting."

Ahiru sat up and crossed her arms over her chest, pouting and blushing and still not looking at him. "Th-then--then you should have come and done something about it!"

Fakir winced, a tinge of pink coming into his own cheeks. After sitting frozen at his desk for a few long minutes, listening to the hushed gasps and moans, the thought of doing just that had occurred to him. It had been incredibly appealing, imagining abandoning his work to go do for Ahiru what she had been trying to accomplish on her own.

So Fakir had been more than disappointed when he'd finally worked up the audacity to join Ahiru in bed, only to realize that her cries of pleasure had ceased, to be replaced by light, quackish snores.

Scowling, he averted his eyes. "You seemed to be doing just fine without me."

Ahiru huffed. "Well, you were busy. And I waited a really long time and you _still_ weren't done, so I just had to take care of it myself."

Fakir closed his eyes again and put on an air of nonchalance. "Hn. How was it?"

"Y-you can't ask something like that!"

"Why not?"

"Because--because you weren't part of it, so it's none of your business!" Another huff.

Fakir still didn't open his eyes. It wasn't necessary; he already knew what the flustered, angry expression on Ahiru's face would look like, and he preferred driving her up the wall with his pretended indifference to letting her see just how interested he was--for the moment. "Did you think of me?"

He could feel the mattress shift, Ahiru making little noises of frustration as she squirmed. When she spoke, he could hear the pout in her voice. "That's none of your business, too."

Fakir frowned slightly. "Why not?"

"'Cause--'cause you _knew_, and you still didn't do anything, and you didn't say you could hear me, and--!" Suddenly, the mattress gave a great lurch. Fakir learned the reason in a moment, when he felt a very familiar body land on top of him. Startled into opening his eyes, the first thing to greet his sight was the face of a blushing, irritated Ahiru. "You _better_ be ready tonight! You hafta make it up to me!"

In an instant, Fakir had grabbed Ahiru's shoulders and switched their positions, pinning her down to the bed, the sheets tangled between them. "Make it up to _you_? You're the one who didn't wait."

Ahiru's eyes widened as she stared up at him. "But you ...."

Fakir smirked. "If you want to do it without me when I'm around, go ahead."

She blinked. "You ... you don't mean ...."

Fakir settled his weight above her, resting his forearms on either side of her head and his knees on either side of her waist, effectively trapping her without touching her. He raised an eyebrow. "I'm waiting."

For several moments, Ahiru could only wriggle under him and stammer jibberish. But when Fakir still wouldn't budge, she bit her lip and glared at him, coming to her decision. "_Fine_."

Squeezing her eyes shut and blushing a vibrant scarlet, Ahiru reached down to pull up the hem of her yellow nightshirt. Fakir's eyes followed the path of her hand as it hesitated at the waistband of her panties and then, with all the determination of a girl set on shocking her boyfriend, thrust under the little scrap of white cotton.

Everything was quiet for a few moments, only the sound of the rain steady against the window interrupting the silence. Fakir waited, not letting himself doubt this idea.

And then, he got his reward. Ahiru's breathing hitched, the hot air fluttering across his cheeks, as he watched her brow furrow and the heat in her face rise.

He leaned in a little closer, still not touching her, but letting her feel the warmth of his body and his breath against the side of her face. She screwed her whole face up in concentration, defiance written in the way she bit her lip.

But she couldn't hold back her whimper.

That was when Fakir heard the soft _shlick_ coming from the place between her legs, and he knew he had won. Smirking, he spoke smugly into her ear. "You can stop."

Ahiru's eyes snapped open to give him a heated glare. He raised an eyebrow, and shifted his weight to move away. "I'll let you up."

But a small, lithe leg snapped around his waist, and a little hand grasped his wrist. "No." There was a light of triumph in Ahiru's eyes. "You're gonna help me."

Fakir had to admit, it was an appealing idea, but not as appealing as seeing her fume all day. She'd gotten him worked up last night, and he could wait a little longer if it meant she felt the frustration too. So he pried her fingers away from his wrist and disentangled himself from her leg, and left her to simmer.

He would regret this decision when Ahiru informed him, that night, that since he couldn't play nicely, _he_ would have to play all alone.


End file.
